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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24726382">No, You Left Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ask_Yo_Girl_About_Us/pseuds/Ask_Yo_Girl_About_Us'>Ask_Yo_Girl_About_Us</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Feels, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:07:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,398</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24726382</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ask_Yo_Girl_About_Us/pseuds/Ask_Yo_Girl_About_Us</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when Dean decides to confront Crowley about his time as a demon?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Crowley (Supernatural)/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s been three and half months since Dean had come back from one of the darkest places of his life. As unbelievable as it sounds this place was that if being a demon. There had been many unimaginable terrors of this time in his life. He had committed just about every unthinkable act in the book. In fact he had become so nasty that even Crowley, the King of Hell had wanted nothing to do with him in the end. Most of it the elder Winchester brother tried to block out with cases and drinking. But late at night he would wake with memories racing to the front of his mind. The worst memories weren’t of the fighting or murder he committed, but of the joy he had felt during this. Castiel and Sam always told Dean that wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t him who had enjoyed it. It was something else! But Dean knew the truth. He knew they were wrong. Something in him was broken even before this all happened. Some part of him had enjoyed every moment of being a demon and being Crowley’s best friend. Crowley.....That som of a bitch was to fault for this. He had caused all these sleepless nights, all this chaos and when he realized Dean was more broken than he was.....Crowley had thrown him away. Even now sitting on the edge of a cheap motel bed Dean felt a rush of embarrassment wash over him. His hands balled into fists and his head hung low. What was so wrong with him that everyone left? How did he become so broken that the only people who remained in his was his brother and an angel who didn’t know any better? Why did everyone leave?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dean scowled down at his lap trying to push these thoughts from mind. If he sat there thinking on this too much he was liable to do something more messed than what he planned on doing already. And what he had planned even in his current state of mind he knew it was dumb. Two days ago he had left Sam and Castiel. He had told them he was going to meet up with an ex girlfriend. Both Sam and Castiel knew it was a lie. They knew Dean was trying to ditch them, but what could they do about it? They couldn’t force him to stay by their sides. The more you tried to tell someone like Dean to do something the less likely he was to do it. So, against their better judgment they had let him go after getting a promise that he would keep his phone on and be back within a week. Maybe this break from them would be for the best. Maybe he finally get out of the slump he had been although nobody really believed this. Castiel and Sam just hoped that Dean didn’t do anything too dumb on his own. Castiel had asked if they should follow after him. Sam had been tempted to say yes, but ultimately decided against it saying Dean was a big boy. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was uncertain to Dean how long he had been sitting on the bed, but finally he rose up. His eyes flickered the floor. Around the messed up queen bed were scattered beer cans. Just beyond that there was a Devil’s Trap craved into the cheap wood floor. Candles were placed around it along with other some other things. The room was set up for a demon summoning. Not just any demon. Oh no. There was only one demon Dean wanted—No needed to speak with and that demon was Crowley. Dean hadn’t seen or heard a peep from that son of a bitch since everything went down. Needless to say the demon had a lot to answer for. For every monstrous thing Dean had done as a demon, for every night he has woken up in a cold sweat with thoughts of the past, for every damn thing that demon has done.....He was going to answer for it. Just thinking about it all was getting the Winchester heated behind the collar. As he began the ritual Dean already started questioning his actions. Wasn’t this exactly what he would advise Sam against doing if things were turned around? The absolute worst time to summon a demon is in a highly emotional. Desperation, sorrow, and anger, they are what fuel demons and give their soulless lives meaning. It’s these emotions that allow for them to dig their claws into a human and twist them around. No demon in all of creation was more talented at this than Crowley. And still, Dean couldn’t resist summoning him. Candles were now lit and the necessary words had been said. Everything was in place. Only one thing was missing....Where the Hell was Crowley? Dean glanced around the small room. Nope. No Crowley. Dean growled under his breath.</span>
</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">“Figures. Anytime someone actually wants you around you won’t show, right? I should have just went somewhere and shouted for you not to come then ya would have ca—“</span>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The candles flickered and like a rabbit being pulled from a hat Crowley wasn’t there one second and now suddenly he appeared. Dean got lucky. Hell’s King was exactly where Dean wanted him....Right in the Devil’s Snare. Crowley looked at Dean, he then looked down at the ground, and immediately saw the predicament he was in. Raising his brows he once again the hunter. He knew Dean was mad at him. Hell, he would be pissed if he was Dean too and it was part of why Crowley had almost ignored this summoning. Why his demon lackeys had begged him not to come. He knew he should listen to them, but there was something about these Winchesters. He was drawn to them like a moth to a flame. Only unlike the moth, Crowley fully knew he would get burned every time he got too close to these men. Sam he could resist maybe even kill. But Dean was different. For some sick reason he would always answer Dean. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The two had an understanding of sorts. They would push each other to their breaking points, mock one another mercilessly, and even have the occasional throw down with one another. But at the end of it all they had an understanding that they needed each other. In a sick way Dean was the only being Crowley could maybe possibly trust. He loathed the flannel wearing duo that was Dean and Sam, but at the same when it came time to throw his eggs in a basket it would always be theirs. He let out a soft chuckle and took a step towards Dean causing the other man to tense up. Crowley stopped inches from the edge of the markers to his current holding cell. </span>
</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">“Can’t blame a girl for getting dolled up for a night out can you?”</span>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Came the self proclaimed “New Devil”’s explanation. Dean rolled his eyes. Crowley looked no different than normal. He had one a black custom fit suit with dark crimson colored tie. His shoes were some over priced sleek black dress shoes. Dean on the other hand looked a mess. His hair was out of place. The blue and black flannel shirt he wore was days pass needing a wash. His jeans had several food stains on them and for some reason he was currently wearing only one sock. It was obvious Dean hadn’t slept any time recently. The elder Winchester didn’t understand it. How could Crowley show up here and act like nothing was out of the ordinary for them? How could he ignore everything that had last transpired between them? Why was he being so.....Normal? Why was Dean feeling like he was standing before an ex girlfriend who had broken his heart and moved on? Too much liquor and not enough sleep. That was surely to blame. A thousand insults sat on the edge of Dean’s tongue yet none would leave his mouth. You’d never guess it from Crowley casual mannerism, but the silence was killing him. Being here with the man he damn near affectionately called “Squirrel” was painful. When Dean had been a demon they shared something. Crowley had felt a real connection for the first time since he become what he was. That is until Dean went full psychopath on him. He had to cut ties. Save face while still had some to save. </span>
</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">“Funny isn’t it? I come all the way here.....You’re welcome for that by the way.....But you’re the one who looks like Hell. You’re wearing flannel worse than normal. It’s offensively impressive. Now why don’t you be a doll and tell Daddy what is you need?”</span>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A look of disgust came across Dean’s face. He thought he was going to spew vomit all over Crowley after hearing him call himself “daddy”. That was the last thing he wanted to think of the man being to him. He pointed a finger at Hell’s King.</span>
</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">“Dude! Don’t ever say that again! And you know what you said before you try asking!”</span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">“And you’re avoiding answering me by being all shout-y. Real mature. Stop wasting time, Squirrel. Some of us have things to do. Realms to run and lives to destroy.” </span>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Countered Crowley his tone now showing irritation. His temper was always short, but this interaction had him on edge. He didn’t like that being here made him feel.....Something. He was a demon, he shouldn’t feel at all! That was supposed to be the beauty of being soulless! It was why he could do such horrendous things and think nothing of it. Or at least he had been able to until he crossed paths with this man and his insufferable younger brother. Dean gritted his teeth. He never should have summoned this asshole, but what was done was done. </span>
</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">“You turned me into a freaking demon, Crowley! Did you really think I was going to forget about that? That I wouldn’t be pissed and come gunning for you!?”</span>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Raw emotion was too clear in Dean’s voice and he hated himself for not being able to hold it together better. For a split second Crowley looked from Dean. He couldn’t believe it, but he felt a small bit of guilt. As twisted as it sounded he hadn’t gone into things meaning to upset Dean. Honest! He thought he was doing the hunter a favor. He was freeing him the same he had been freed years ago when he became a demon. Why couldn’t anybody see this? Why couldn’t he understand it? His eyes locked back onto Dean and Crowley scowled at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">“I freed you and we both know you loved every damn minute. Don’t bullshit a professional bullshit. What are you really mad about, Squirrel? Are you mad at me for giving you a taste of freedom or are you mad at yourself for not realizing how good it would feel? Please don’t tell me you’ve summoned me for a whole “feelings” talk. If so, spare me the torture of it and end me now.”</span>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His mouth hung open in a mix of shock and anger. He wasn’t mad at Crowley exactly. This was how the ex crossroads demon had always been. This was expected behavior. He was a demon and this is their nature. To be cruel and uncaring. Dean was disappointment in himself, because some part of him despite knowing had expected more of Crowley. He was mad because what Crowley said was painfully true. He had been kidding himself earlier when he tried saying this was to have it out with the demon and make him pay. As good as punching someone would feel.....He didn’t want to hurt Crowley. Not for this. Cocking his head to the side Crowley watched Dean with curiousness. </span>
</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">“What’s the matter, darling? Cat got your tongue.”</span>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Without responding Dean picked up the knife he had used to crave the Devil’s Trap. Crowley frowned confused as ever while he watched the elder Winchester brother bend down and destroy the marking freeing Crowley. This caused the King of Hell to retreat further into the Devil’s Trap. He didn’t trust whatever was happening for a minute.</span>
</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="p2">“Get. Out.”</p>
</blockquote><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This was all Dean could get out as he gritted his teeth together. Crowley’s eyes went wide. Maybe it was stubborn pride or perhaps it was that nagging feeling for Dean which he couldn’t explain, but Crowley didn’t budge.</span>
</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="p2">“Didn’t you hear me? Leave.”</p>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">“Oh I heard you. But I don’t take orders from you. You don’t get to summon me and send me away at will. You wanted me? Well you got me now deal with it.”</span>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A snort escaped Dean. He shook his head. Stupid, stupid, stupid. It had been so stupid to call Crowley here. He should have listened when Castiel told him not to leave. He should have gone done to the strip club and drowned his sorrows there. Grabbing a duffle bag off the ground Dean went to the door.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fine. You stay. I’ll go. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This was all the fight Dean suddenly had left in him. He felt drained and exhausted as he made his way out to the car. Crowley stood in spot. He knitted his brows together. For once he didn’t know what to do. He shook his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">“Feelings. Who the Hell needs them? Not me.....Not me.”</span>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The King of Hell muttered softly. Raising his hand to the side of his head he snapped his fingers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">“Till we meet again.”</span>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Crowley said louder before vanishing from the room knowing the two were fated to meet again sooner than later. If only he had known just how soon that would be. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Still shaking with raw emotion from his encounter with the infamous self proclaimed New Devil, Dean did what he always did when emotions got the better of him. He shoved them away, said a few curse words under his breath and headed to the nearest bar in n effort to drown away whatever this stupid emotion was he felt now. Dean was there an entire twenty minutes before his phone began buzzing. It was a text from his younger brother asking how his meeting with the ex had gone. Dean immediately rolled his eyes when he saw that Sam had put the word “ex” in quotes. A clear sign that he didn’t buy the lie Dean had told him and Castiel about where he was going. Needing someone besides Crowley and himself to be mad at he now chose to be mad with his brother. Sam made himself an easy and safe target for Dean to lash out at. He sent a quick text back to Sam “None of your business. Be back in a six more days. As order by you.”. After this Dean immediately turned his phone off and shoved it into his pocket. The elder Winchester was sure his brother would text back trying to gain more information, try to figure out why Dean had been so short with him, and have one of their little coming to Jesus talks.</p><p> </p><p>Dean was in no mood for that. All he wanted right now was wash away any memories of this stupid little trip he had taken and of Crowley. It’s funny, he had lied to the two people he cared most about in the world. He told them that he was going to see an ex girlfriend and felt guilty about the lie. Yet the more he sat here drinking the more he wondered just how much of a lie that had truly been. Right now he was going through all the same emotions he always did with a breakup. There was anger, a desire to understand what he had done wrong in the relationship , questioning why everything ended up so fucked, confusion and a bitter feeling of being abandoned yet again. It brought him back to unwanted childhood memories of his father. Was that the real reason he had acted so strongly to Crowley tonight? Had he felt like this was somehow a breakup between himself and the King of Hell? And had the snide little comment about Crowley calling himself “Daddy” just been the final straw? No. That was insane. There was no way he or Crowley could possible view what the two had been through as some form of a relationship. Dean was a hunter and a human who tried to do the right thing most days. There was no way he had ever had any sort of feeling for a demon. Especially not Crowley.</p><p> </p><p>All that had happened between the two was that Crowley had got the better of Dean when he was at his lowest. The only reason why it was bothering Dean so damn much was because this hurt his pride to admit. That’s what Dean was slowly convincing himself of as he worked on his second beer and fourth shot. It’s the only thing that made sense. His constant lack of sleep from working case after case is what caused him to respond to the King of Hell so strongly. A few hours later and an uncountable amount of drinks in Dean had finally started to cheer back up. He was even humming along with the song playing throughout the bar. Meeting with Crowley had been a mistake and one Dean was drunkly promising himself he would never make again, but that didn’t mean his whole trip had to suck, right? Maybe some time tomorrow afternoon once his unavoidable hangover had eased up he would go catch a movie or something even. When was the last time he had gone to the movie theater? Dean wasn’t so sure he could recall and he had feeling that the liquor wasn’t entirely to blame for that. Either way he wasn’t going to let himself get down about it. Not when he had worked so hard to cheer himself up. Another hour passed and by now Dean was feeling the sort of good that only liquor can make one feel. So good in fact that he was now talking up a pretty blond who had sat down besides him about fifteen minutes ago. The two had a lot in common it turns out! Really! Both had the same color eyes and both wanted to get so drunk they can’t feel a damn thing. Right now, Dean was all in favor of doing that with some good looking company.</p><p>Another fifteen minutes passed and the two were getting really cozy. So much in fact that the bartender was starting to give the two a bit of warning stare. Something both Dean and his new friend of the night found extremely funny. They were laughing up a storm when a new face entered the bar and strolled their way over to where they were. The laughter immediately stopped when the elder Winchester brother saw who it was. His drunk grin turned into an instant almost damn near comical scowl.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“Son of a bitch!”</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p>Dean cursed loudly causing his female company to back off of him and raise a brow. She looked from Dean to the man who had now sat down the opposite side of him. The man looked like a well dressed car salesman to her. He was handsome in a sort of unexplainable way, but something about the way he smiled at her and Dean sent shivers down her spine and made her suddenly feel a little less intoxicated. The woman reached down below her seat for her purse. Placing some money on the counter she made up a quick and very obvious excuse to get the Hell out of that bar and take an Uber on home. Dean hadn’t even bothered trying to stop the woman. Giving who had just entered the bar he already knew she had the right idea by leaving. In fact he was tempted to follow suit. Instead he gripped his glass of beer tightly and turned his attention to the man.......Demon rather who was demanding it with one simple look.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“Really? I leave you at hotel and you have to come all the way out here to ruin my night further? Why?”</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p>Now this was a damn good question. Why had Crowley come here? Of course he had come here because it was the cheapest and nearest bar in town which meant undoubtedly he would find Dean there. But why had he purpose went after Dean when only hours ago the man had made it clear the two had nothing further to discuss and it wasn’t like Crowley was under any obligation to check in on Dean. In fact, Crowley shouldn’t be here at all. This was the most stupid place possibly in the world for him to be. He should be back in Hell giving orders, getting drunk there or off tempting some poor soul into causing mass chaos. Basically he should have been anywhere, but here. So why if Dean meant nothing to him was he seeking him out? What was it about the flannel wearing idiot that he couldn’t resist? Well, Hell’s King had convinced himself he was here to “properly” end things. When Dean had taken off on Crowley, the demon had decided something. Being summoned, only to be tossed aside doesn’t happen to Kings. That what happens to dogs and Crowley wasn’t the Winchesters’ dog. He was King of Hell and it was time he start behaving as such. It was time to cut his ties to the Winchester for good.</p><p> </p><p>Yeah, that’s why he was here. This was him performing a professional curtsey by appearing in person rather than sending a letter or text. But that’s ridiculous isn’t it? If he was truly done with the Winchesters and Dean meant nothing to him why bother telling him this at all? Why not just be done with it and go back to Hell? That was a question Crowley could provide no real good answer to though he would think up a Hell of a lie to explain it later on when questioned by his own people on it. You know if he didn’t simply kill anyone who questioned him instead. Crowley tutted and shook his head. A mocking smirk already on his lips letting Dean know he was going to hate whatever the ex crossroad demon said next.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“First off, I’ve been to hotels. That wasn’t a hotel. That was a motel. Motel with an “m”. And you ruined their floor with your little doodles. Not that I am guessing they really gave a damn. I mean, motel....Hello.”</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p>Crowley waved a hand in his ever theatrical mannerism. Dean rolled his eyes and downed what was left of his beer. Why was he even trying to have any sort of conversation with this smug little bastard? Sitting the empty glass down rather loudly he now stared at Crowley.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“You did not come all this way to lecture me on that. What the Hell do you want Crowley?”</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p>Part of Dean knew he shouldn’t give Crowley the time of day. He hated the demon more than anything in the world as he should after all Crowley had put him through. All the pain and suffering this being had caused him......All the dirty tricks Crowley had pulled on him over the years......He had a million reasons to hate the guy. And yet in his drunken state he just couldn’t keep up that thick wall of hate like normal. Some twisted, dark and very broken part of Dean was not exactly happy, but relief that Crowley had shown up. Even so, Dean knew what he should be doing and still, couldn’t do the right thing. He couldn’t walk out of this bar. Instead he was opening up the door for conversation. Dean’s question made the demon chuckle softly. By this point there was now a whiskey in Crowley’s hand. Dean definitely didn’t remember Crowley ordering that. Demonic bastard probably used his powers to make it appear just to be a shit. Dean thought and he wasn’t wrong. It’s exactly what had happened. Calm as ever Crowley made a point of slowly raising his glad to his lips and taking an extended damn near slow motion sip of his whiskey. This caused Dean to make serval different faces all of which screamed that the hunter currently wanted to deck Crowley. The demon had to give Dean some credit for showing some restraint tonight and not hitting him. By this point it actually would have been a somewhat warranted it thing to do.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“I want you to stop wearing that appalling flannel that makes you look like a deranged lumberjack, but we both know that’s a wish I’ll never see granted. But tonight, I’ll be settling for drinking with my ex-bestie because I decided something back at the motel where you tried and failed to leave me.”</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p>A groan now escaped Dean’s lips. He was far too drunk for this shit and even if he wasn’t drunk off his ass he was certain he still wouldn’t want to hear whatever the Hell Crowley was going to say next. He pointed a finger at Crowley. Just about poking the demon in the face which caused Crowley to move his face back an inch and make a face.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“Whatever it is, Crowley. I don’t want to hear it. And <strong>STOP INSULTING THE FLANNEL, MAN!</strong>”</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p>Dean’s drunk shouting caused the bartender to give him a look. Crowley quickly smoothed this over with a smile to the bartender and placing down a few large bills. He managed to do this without Dean even noticing. Crowley snapped his full attention quickly back to Dean. Of all the beings in the universe it had to be Dean fucking Winchester that he had grown to be obsessed with. Well, that ended now.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“Too bad you don’t have a say in it. Like I told you before. I am not a little toy on your shelf. You wanted for us to have a chat and now we are going to. Shout at me again and I will very violently force you to become sober. Understood?”</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p>The stubborn hardheaded part of Dean was tempted to test this theory out. Maybe by shouting again or simply by laughing in the demon’s face and demanding to know since when a second rate crossroad demon had been given that sort of power. But, Crowley isn’t some second rate crossroad demon despite how Sam, Castiel and even Dean treat him now most days. This is a man who gave up his human life for one of sin. A man who became something twisted even by humanity’s low standards, scrapped his way from the lowest pits of Hell to becoming King of the whole damn place. It’s something to admire when you think about it. Only other being to successfully call themselves King of Hell and live is Lucifer. Even he had struggled to hold that title over the years and he is the most powerful archangel to ever exist. God’s perfect child and ideal solider. A being beautiful beyond words and twice as deadly. When Dean thought of in this light it made him realize that he really had no idea just how powerful Crowley may truly be these days. Maybe they should have spent a bit more time taking Crowley seriously. A small chill ran down his back which Dean got rid of by motioning for the bartender to bring him another round of drinks. Only once Crowley was certain that the rather drunk Winchester wasn’t going to say something stupid back to him did the demon speak up.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“It’s over, Squirrel. All of it.”</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p>Dean’s intoxicated mind was having trouble processing what was just said. Had Crowley really come seeking him back out only to what? Formally reject him after being told off by Dean? Since when did the person being left get to come back be the leaver? And why did he feel so damn hurt by this? He should be hooting with glee! The King of Hell just announced he plans on leaving him alone for good or he thinks that is what happened, Dean squinted his eyes. The calmness Crowley was maintaining through this was only making it all the more insulting and Dean was positive the demon knew it.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“Dude, seriously? You’re trying to leave me after I left you? What is this some sort of pride thing with you? Can’t be the one left? Have the be the one who did the leaving? To quote you from before “Grow up.”.”</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p>The words stung much more than Crowley cared to admit. Dean is absolutely right. This is a pride thing and Crowley hates how easily Dean saw it. Crowley says he has nothing in common with humanity and mortals any longer, but it’s a lie. Him and Dean have a lot in common. It’s why the two always bump heads and why over the years neither has pulled the trigger and actually killed one another. They understand each other in a way that defies explanation. They’ve become each other’s balance. When Crowley goes too dark Dean puts him back in line and when Dean is unable to do a dirty deed which needs to be done Crowley steps in and does it. They claim to hate each other, but they will always need one another. That’s why what Crowley is doing now is pointless. He knows it and Dean once he sobers back up will know it too. This is nothing more than a man with wounded pride trying to bandage his pride. Crowley finished off his whiskey. The glass simply ceased to exist after this.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“No. I am telling you for your own sake that we shouldn’t meet again. You said you’ll be gunning for me and next time you come doing so I won’t hold back. This whole game we play. I help you, you amuse me, yada, yada.......It’s over. Consider this our formal breakup.”</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p>For a second Dean sat with his mouth open, brows raised and eyes wide staring at Crowley. It felt like a knife had been stabbed through his heart and boy did that piss him off. What Crowley was saying shouldn’t matter at all. It should be laughable. It’s so obvious he is only here in an effort to restore his pride. He always says he is done with Sam and Dean. Everyone knows he never is. But still, this hurt. It truly did feel like what Crowley called it. A breakup. Before Dean could manage to find his words Crowley stood. While the bartender was busy taking somebody else’s order Crowley snapped his finger and the King of Hell disappeared from the bar leaving Dean to drown his sorrow on his own while cursing Crowley. Dean grabbed his beer off the counter and took a large gulp.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“Feelings. Who needs ‘em, right? Not me.”</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p>Dean stated firmly to bartender who was already in the process of doing what he always did for the ones who had a few too many; getting Dean an Uber. The bartender gave a small shrug. In his mind he had just witnessed a rather strange breakup between two men he would never have guessed together, but in a strange way had made perfect sense seeing with one another.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“I wouldn’t think too much on it tonight. Look, if it’s meant to be he’ll be back.”</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p>In his drunken state of mind Dean wasn’t quite catching on to what was being implied by the bartender. If he had the elder Winchester would have been quick to deny any sort of relationship between Crowley and himself. He would have told the bartender that there was no way he was at all involved with that smug douche. Crowley was just an ex business partner or something of the sort. That was all. Instead Dean scoffed.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“‘Course he will be back! It’s freaking Crowley! He always comes back!”</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p>And this would be the last thing Dean could recall of the evening. Tomorrow he would be waking up extremely hungover, hating his life choices and wondering just what the Hell to do about Crowley. But that was tomorrow’s issue now wasn’t it?</p><p> </p>
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